


The Scribe of the Lord and a Prophet

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supenatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 23:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Request: Anonymous. Hey guys! So I’ve had this idea in my head for a while. What if the reader was Sam and deans friend (a researcher), she loves reading and writing and discussing theories about plots and such. (K mostly cuz I’m basing it off me cuz I’m a need). And they keep her hush hush because they want her safe. When Kevin died she became the next prophet because metatron didn’t flip the switch fast enough. He captures her but takes interest because she can discuss books well. Idk why I need this. Lol





	The Scribe of the Lord and a Prophet

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Anonymous. Hey guys! So I’ve had this idea in my head for a while. What if the reader was Sam and deans friend (a researcher), she loves reading and writing and discussing theories about plots and such. (K mostly cuz I’m basing it off me cuz I’m a need). And they keep her hush hush because they want her safe. When Kevin died she became the next prophet because metatron didn’t flip the switch fast enough. He captures her but takes interest because she can discuss books well. Idk why I need this. Lol

Being so close with the Winchesters for so long, you did a lot for them. They did so much for the world, with little to nothing in return. Besides, you enjoyed research. Everything that you had to find out for them, you found interesting. You learned while helping them. That, in your mind, was a win-win.

When the truth came out about what Dean had done to save Sam (this time), you were honestly shocked. There had been many nights that you had stayed up late with Sam, talking about plot holes in your favorite movies, who would play you in a real life movie, and anything else that came to mind. Not once did you ever suspect it wasn’t always Sam.

Everything was happening so fast that you never had time to react to anything.

You watched in horror as Kevin’s body fell, lifeless. Your voice screaming his name sounded foreign to you, like someone else screaming from far off.

That seemed like lifetimes ago. But, it wasn’t. It wasn’t even a week ago. Now, here you sat, the prophet. You didn’t want to be the damn prophet! You saw what it had done to Kevin, the way his life fell down around him. He was cut off from everyone but Sam, Dean, and yourself.

And then, to add to it, you found out that there were supposed to be no more prophets. You had slipped through that tiny window before Metatron flipped the switch. Or whatever he did. It meant that Sam and Dean went from protective, to damn near security guards. You were thankful that they wanted you safe, but this was a bit much.

* * *

The boys, along with Cas and Crowley’s help, had gotten Gadreel out of Sam, so it was even more important to keep you safe from Metatron. They pretty much kept you on lockdown these days and it was starting to take a toll. You were going stir crazy, and kept snapping at them. The more they were around, the less you wanted them there.

Finally, you flipped out. You demanded that you be allowed to go shopping. Alone. You didn’t care if someone drove you, and waited in the store. But you would be allowed to actually shop alone.

Sam had been the one to fold. Dean stormed off to his room, making a point to slam the door, much like a child would. You would talk to him later, but for now, you needed some air.

* * *

“What do you mean she’s _gone_?!” Dean yelled at his brother.

Sam ran his hand through his hair. “I mean- she’s gone, Dean. Vanished. I’m guessing that Metatron got to her.”

He kicked over a nearby chair, angry. “One job, Sam! You had ONE job. Keep her safe. And now what? Huh? Do we find her looking like Kevin? Or worse?” He yelled, laying the guilt on thick.

* * *

Groaning, you rolled over. Your head was throbbing like you’d done nothing but drink for the past week. It wasn’t a very pleasant feeling. The last thing you remembered was talking to Sam. “Hello, there.” You heard the voice of Metatron.

“Oh God.”

He chuckled. “Well, hopeful God.” He sounded so amused with himself.

Sitting up, you shot him a look. “What do you want with me?”

“Can’t have another prophet running around, now can we?” He asked, smirking.

“So, kill me already. Get on with it.” You shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. Trying to stand, you looked down and realized that you were chained. Your eyes snapped to his. “Why aren’t you killing me?”

He shrugged. “Let’s call it…curiosity.”

* * *

As the hours and days ticked by, Metatron found himself more and more enthralled with you. You were extremely intelligent, a lover of the written word, and an excellent conversationalist. Many days were spent either reading in complete silence, or debating the meaning and legilimency of some pieces of works.

You found yourself oddly enjoying yourself. You did miss Sam and Dean, but it was nice to focus on something other than hunting. Sam did discuss books with you, but nothing to this degree.

“I have something for you.” Metatron smiled at you.

You looked at him, confused, as he handed you a box. Licking  your lips, you undid the ribbon and pulled off the lid. Inside was a beautiful leather bound journal, a pen to go with it, and sitting on top of that was a key. Your eyes shot to him.

“You are free to wander the entire house, Y/N.” He said gently. “The journal is for whatever you choose. To write down your thoughts, things we discuss, hopes, dreams, anything your heart desires. I’ve become fond of having you around, and hope that you’ll stay.” He seemed almost shy, and nervous.

It was a hard choice, as what he was doing was wrong. “I miss my family.” You told him. “But, if you stop what you’re doing, I will visit.” You said softly, earning a look of shock that morphed into a small smile.


End file.
